Embracing the Darkness
by Josie Lange
Summary: In the struggle against the Blight, Grey Warden Lhiannon Amell travels to the fortress of Warden's Keep and learns of the research conducted there...and it's power. "The Chantry foolishly forbids blood magic - but there are so many secrets to uncover."


_A/N: Bioware owns all. I'm just a fan with an imagination._

* * *

"Can we _not_ do that again?"

Lhiannon sat shakily on the ground of the training room at Vigil's Keep, the aftereffects of Jowan's entropy spells leaving her weak and light headed. She and Anders had been helping Jowan develop his magical talents in an effort to bolster his skills with spells that did not involve blood magic. As part of his training, Lhiannon had volunteered to be the target of Jowan's spells, leaving Anders to the healing and rejuvenation spells. After several hours of having a number of entropy spells cast on her, Lhiannon was ready to call it a day. She would likely sleep like the dead tonight, beginning as soon as her head hit the pillow. _Loghain is going to have to entertain himself tonight,_ she thought. _I think the archdemon itself could land in the courtyard of the Vigil and I would sleep right through it._

Laughing, Anders came to sit next to Lhiannon, wrapping an arm around his friend's shoulders and whispering the words to a rejuvenation spell, conferring the magic to her as Jowan came to sit on Lhiannon's other side. The three mages sat in a loose circle, each looking to the other with satisfaction on the day's lessons.

"You've really progressed well, Jowan," Anders said with a grin, removing his arm from around Lhiannon's shoulder and giving a playful punch to Jowan's arm. Jowan covered the area with his hand, a dramatic and theatrical "Ow!" coming from his lips and echoing off the walls of the training room.

"Well, I have the two of you to thank for that," Jowan grinned, rubbing the spot that Anders had punched. "I can still feel the call of blood magic, but nowhere near as strong as before."

Anders nodded his approval. The threat of blood magic is what drove many non-mages to fear and despise those with magical talents. The Chantry and their indoctrination served to feed the fear of mages in general and blood mages in particular. There were many Andrastrians who thought all mages were blood mages and screeching abominations just waiting to happen, and the Chantry did little to assuage those fears. Anders turned to Lhiannon, who was still looking a little weak and pale from the day's exercises. "Why did you do it, Lhi?"

Lhiannon turned to Anders, her brows furrowed and a confused look on her face. "Do what, Andy?"

"Blood magic," he growled, a dark look crossing is fair features. "I know you did it once. Why?"

Lhiannon scoffed and sighed, thinking back to the very day she learned blood magic, then forward to the day she used it that one and only time. "Well, you know why I had to use it; we were fighting Flemeth as a high dragon. But I don't think I told you why I learned what I did…and who taught me…"

* * *

"Are you sure this is a good idea? I thought the fortress was a bad idea, but this place looks…_creepy_."

Lhiannon turned to look at Alistair, his face pinched in an expression of disgust as he looked across the bridge leading from the fortress of Soldier's Peak to the imposing tower that sat behind it. Several steps behind them stood Morrigan and Levi Dryden, both of whom were looking over the sides of the bridge to the valley below. Shale brought up the rear, her stone gaze looking at the tower ahead; she just _knew_ birds favored such towers and may the stone help them if they came close.

"Well," Alistair continued, running his hand over his closely cropped hair, "the tower looks like it's seen better days. Or better centuries."

Lhiannon turned as she heard an irritated snort from Morrigan behind them. The mage was sneering at Alistair—per usual—before she gave Lhiannon a quick glance and even quicker wink. "'Tis no lie that at one time the Wardens flourished, with full ranks and devotion to duty. Now they even accept people like you, Alistair."

With a snarl, Alistair began to march toward the tower beyond the bridge, muttering under his breath as he did so. "Couldn't you just crawl under a bush somewhere and die? That would be great." He had only traversed a few feet before calling back to the others. "Watch out for traps!"

"Now children," Lhiannon began, light chain mail rustling as she jogged to catch up with Alistair as he crossed the bridge, deftly avoiding the obvious trap triggers at her feet. "Don't make me separate the two of you."

"Do you promise? Oh, _please_, could you?" she heard Morrigan ask from behind, sarcasm dripping in her voice as she carefully maneuvered across the span. Levi guffawed lightly as he followed Morrigan, carefully choosing his steps to avoid setting off any of the traps around him. Shale said nothing, taking up the rear and keeping a wary eye to the sky, watching for birds to come swooping down at her. There was not much that the royal spawn uttered that Shale found either poignant or meaningful, but his notion that 'swooping is bad' was something she could find herself agreeing with, especially if that swooping was accompanied by the fluttering of wings.

After several moments crossing the bridge, the party of companions arrived at the door to the tower. The tower loomed high overhead, ancient carvings adorned the stone of the tower and the wood of the door, but time and the elements had worn many away so that deciphering them would be virtually impossible. Lhiannon reached for the handle but stopped as Alistair's hand reached out and covered her own. "You're sure about this? Sophia Dryden is dead; we don't need to find this Avernus fellow."

"He's a Grey Warden. If he has information that can help the us defeat the archdemon and turn back the Blight, we need it," Lhiannon said. She shivered and felt as if her skin was crawling. "There's dark magic at work here," she said, turning to look at Morrigan over her shoulder. "Do you feel it as well?"

"Yes," Morrigan said hesitantly, her yellow eyes narrowing as she peered up the side of the tower to the peak beyond, concentrating on the magical energies that swirled about the tower. "I sense not only blood magic, but ancient magic and demons as well."

Alistair scoffed from beside Lhiannon. "Really? I never would have guessed that, since we had to fight a demon possessed woman and a legion of the undead not ten minutes ago to get to this point."

"I don't remember Lhiannon asking for _your_ opinion, you bloody idiot," Morrigan snarled, scoffing as she pushed by Alistair and opened the door to the tower, marching in with her head and shoulders held high in defiance. Alistair followed close behind, bringing his sword and shield to bear as he snickered at Morrigan's outburst.

Before Lhiannon could follow Morrigan and Alistair into the tower, she heard Shale approach from behind. "May I suggest crushing the heads of the swamp witch and royal spawn? That would make its job as leader less taxing."

"Don't tempt me," Lhiannon grinned, pulling her staff from the rigging on her back and passing through the doorway into the tower.

The room looked to be a study of some type, tables lined with books and bottles covered in layers of dust and spider webs. Ancient skeletons lay on the floor, casualties of the battle that took place within the tower long ago. One of the tables appeared to be recently used, a path through the dust leading toward one of two doorways beyond. She noticed that among the dusty tomes and bottles on the table, one particular bottle and scroll looked to have been placed there recently as both were devoid of the dust that covered the others. Before she could move to the table, the sound of clattering bones and otherworldly hisses drew her attention away from the table, where four skeletons rose from the floor and began to press toward the companions. Lhiannon shoved Levi toward the corner of the room, telling him to stay behind Shale if at all possible and let the golem's bulk protect him.

"Great, more undead," Alistair growled, swinging his sword at the nearest skeleton. "Is that death you're wearing? It's very becoming." Alistair's sword tore through the skeleton, the creature dropping to the floor in several pieces, each wriggling and squealing until Alistair crushed the skull with his armored boot, silencing and stilling the creature.

Lhiannon and Morrigan both cast fire spells at two of the other skeletons, enveloping them in a mass of fire as they writhed and screamed in unearthly tones. Lhiannon took a swing at one of the burning skeletons as it approached her, the impact of her staff knocking the creature backwards and to the ground, where Shale calmly stepped forward and crushed its skull underfoot. "Not as satisfying as the squelching sounds pigeons make," the golem sighed, reaching out to grab the last skeleton in her rocky hands and pulling it apart, carelessly tossing the fragments away where Morrigan incinerated them with a spell.

After looking around to make sure there were no more undead creatures attacking them, Lhiannon turned her attention to the strange bottle and scroll on the table before them. She approached the table, her curiosity getting the best of her, and opened the scroll. The handwriting inside was sloppy, as if written by a shaking hand; no doubt this had to be the writing of Avernus, the mage that the abomination Sophia Dryden wanted killed. Lhiannon's eyes skimmed along the document, going wide at what she read.

The document spoke of the taint and how it becomes more potent with the passage of time, leaving the Grey Warden nothing less than a ghoul in approximately thirty years. Avernus speculated about the Joining and the possibility that it could be refined to contain, or even stop, the spread of the corruption within the blood of Grey Wardens. Avernus was seeking to isolate the power of the blood found in the darkspawn while leaving behind the evil that eventually kills the Warden.

"What is it?" Alistair asked, stepping to Lhiannon's side and reading over her shoulder. After a moment reading, Alistair looked at the bottle resting on the table. "Is that what Avernus is talking about?" he asked, pointing an armored finger accusingly at it.

"I don't know," Lhiannon said, looking over to where a book was laid open on the other end of the table. Curious, she moved toward the book, looking at the script on the pages. It was similar to the writing on the scroll she held, obviously written by the same hand, but far steadier. Lhiannon began to skim the page, her finger running along the parchment as she read each line. Alistair came to her side, watching as Lhiannon's face first paled before red splotches of anger appeared high on her cheeks.

"Lhi, what is it?" Alistair asked, trepidation in his voice as Lhiannon continued to read.

Frowning, Lhiannon snatched up the bottle and headed for the doors leading out of the room to where she felt the presence of the other Grey Warden beyond. "The _fucking bastard_ experimented on his own Grey Warden colleagues!" she shouted indignantly, pointing at the doors beyond where she could fell Avernus' nearly ancient presence. "He took their blood and turned his own primal magic on them in his experiments." She turned toward the doors beyond which the old mage resided. "I am getting answers, one way or another."

* * *

"Do not disrupt my concentration! Maker's breath, your stomping about can be heard all the way to Gwaren."

Lhiannon paid no heed to Avernus' objections as she marched through his sanctum, staring wide eyed at the skeletons that lay in cages along the wall or in pits in the floor. Some of the skeletons were clothed in ancient tunics, the Grey Warden griffon barely discernable under layers of dust and webs. As Lhiannon led the others toward the steps to the dais, Avernus turned, slowly descending the stairs to stand before them.

Avernus was ancient; dark purple circles surrounding his eyes and coloring the sagging skin of his face. He was devoid of all hair; even his eyebrows and eyelashes were gone, giving his face an even stranger, more demonic look. Great craters and wrinkles dotted his skin, the pigmentation gone except for the purples and reds that dotted his skin in uneven splotches.

Avernus looked at Lhiannon calmly, almost like he was bored. "Are you the one to thank for the disruption in the number of demons here? It is welcome, but temporary."

"You're Avernus? The old Grey Warden mage?" Lhiannon growled, holding his disconcerting gaze with her own fiery one. "I'm surprised you still live."

"Only just," Avernus scoffed, waving his hand through the air as if to brush off her words. "I have been able to extend my life with the magic the Chantry so foolishly forbids."

"Blood magic," Alistair growled, stepping forward to stand beside Lhiannon. "He's a blood mage, practicing forbidden magic."

Avernus scoffed, turning his ancient, yet bright gaze on Alistair. "Spoken like a true follower of the Chantry, they who have tried to draw the line for determining what is safe, proper, or moral. The Wardens are the only place where true magical research can be conducted without their interference."

"He has a point," Morrigan agreed. "The Chantry seeks to suppress all mages and their talents. One would think they would like to see mages bred out of existence and be done with magic all together."

"Oh, study magic like the magisters of ancient Tevinter?" Alistair scoffed, ignoring Morrigan as his face began to turn red with his growing anger. "You do remember how that turned out you, don't you? The Black City? Darkspawn? Any of that ring a bell in that ancient head of yours? And how do you know the Chantry is wrong?"

"Bah, how do you know the Chantry is _right_? The tales of the Black City and darkspawn are lies told by the Chantry to subjugate mages and keep them docile," Avernus spat. "The faith of the Chantry would have you swallow a great deal of doctrine for a small amount of comfort."

Lhiannon held a hand up, stopping Alistair's next retort before he could speak it aloud. Alistair reluctantly stood down, clenching his fists and standing at Lhiannon's side as she turned her gaze back to Avernus. "I want answers from you, Avernus," she growled through gritted teeth. "What in the bloody hell happened here?"

Shrugging nonchalantly, Avernus slowly blinked once and sighed. "What does it matter? The tyrant Arland is dead, as well as all the co-conspirators and the grand rebellion to remove him."

"That's not what I meant," Lhiannon growled, holding her hands out to indicate the skeletons and strange research apparatus Avernus had scattered throughout his sanctum. "I'm talking about the Grey Wardens you experimented on! They were your colleagues! Your brothers and sisters in the Wardens! How could you do this to them? _You killed them!_"

With narrowed eyes, Avernus studied Lhiannon for several moments before he pointed a hand to the doors at the back of his sanctum. "Everyone but this mage is to leave. Out!"

"Over my dead body," Alistair snarled, taking a menacing step toward Avernus, who turned his gaze toward the warrior. "That can be arranged," Avernus growled, a glowing white ball of power appearing in the palm of his hand. "I may be old, but I still have enough power at my command to best you."

Turning toward Alistair, Lhiannon put a restraining grip on his arm. "Go on, Alistair. Take Morrigan, Shale, and Levi with you. Look around for any information on the Grey Wardens or past blights that we can put to use."

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but Alistair is right," Morrigan said, coming forward to stand next to Lhiannon. "'Tis unwise to be left with this…creature."

"Do you want your answers, Warden?" Avernus snarled angrily. "I will speak of nothing until your dogs leave!"

Reluctantly, Lhiannon nodded again at her companions. "It will be fine. Go on outside. Leave Shale by the door; if Avernus tries anything, she can have at him."

"I would be most anxious to squish this ancient meatbag's head between my hands, should the meatbag try to harm it," Shale called out from where she stood near the back of the chamber, stoic and unmoving as her eyes glared at the ancient mage.

"Well, that inspires me with confidence," Alistair quipped, rolling his eyes as he sheathed his sword. "If you're not out in fifteen minutes, Lhi, I'm coming in for you."

Lhiannon nodded, giving a wink to Alistair as he turned to leave. "Agreed. Fifteen minutes." As her companions exited through the doors at the back of the sanctum and closed the doors behind them, Lhiannon turned to regard Avernus once more, her face hard. "All right, Avernus, you heard me. Fifteen minutes. Get talking."

Avernus pointed to the flask still in Lhiannon's hand. "Have you read my notes regarding that concoction?"

With a curt nod, Lhiannon answered. "I did. Your notes mentioned unlocking the hidden potential of the tainted blood we consume during the Joining."

Avernus turned and walked back up the stairs to the dais his workbench occupied, beckoning for Lhiannon to follow. His workbench was littered with scrolls, some yellowed and brittle, others nearly new. A quill and ink pot stood nearby and it appeared Avernus had been writing notes in a journal when they arrived. He pointed to a crudely drawn diagram of a figure restrained to a table, magical currents of electricity enveloping the body.

"I have tried to removed the poison from the blood of the Grey Wardens, leaving behind the power and benefits from the Joining. I have had limited success. My experiments have slowed the advancement of the corruption within us, but it will still eventually kill us."

"Is that what this is?" Lhiannon asked, holding up the flask she still held in her hand. Avernus nodded, turning once more to his desk and the notes piled high on it. "When I sundered the Veil at Commander Dryden's order, all manner of demons poured through. I thought I could control the summoning circles, but with so many variables involved in sundering the Veil, mistakes were inevitable. The demons ran rampant through Soldier's Peak, killing many of the Grey Wardens in the process. I needed a way to increase our power to defeat them."

"So where does blasting Grey Wardens with magical lightning come in?" Lhiannon asked.

"I conjecture that the lightning causes slight changes in the way our blood reacts to the taint within us. I began using the Wardens as living experimental vessels, but the force of the magic used was too much for them to bear. Instead, I began to take their blood." Avernus paused as he heard Lhiannon's sharp intake of breath beside him. "It wasn't the magic alone that killed the Wardens; perhaps it was that and the blood I had to take from them."

Shaking her head angrily, Lhiannon forcibly turned Avernus to look at her. "Don't you have even a shred of regret for what you have done? These were your colleagues, your brothers and sisters in the Wardens!"

"Their deaths were not meaningless, if that is what you are inferring, child," Avernus stated haughtily. "Their sacrifices may prevent future deaths from the Joining or prolong the lives or Grey Wardens to more acceptable lengths. Do not preach of the perils of magical experimentation to me, mage. You, of all people, should understand that by experimenting with our magic, we can obtain greater power."

"I do not desire greater power, Avernus," Lhiannon countered angrily. "My only desire is to put down this Blight and defeat the archdemon before it can lay waste to Ferelden."

Avernus' face darkened, a look of apparent disbelief crossing his features. "Is that why my dreams have become darker of late? There is a Blight in Ferelden?"

With an emphatic nod, Lhiannon explained the recent events in Ferelden: the emergence of the darkspawn from the Korcari Wilds, the disaster at Ostagar, her recruitment into the Wardens and her efforts to raise an army. Avernus listened closely, nodding throughout the story and rubbing his ancient, wrinkled chin with his hand. When Lhiannon finished her account, Avernus pointed to the flask in her hand.

"Warden, the fruits of my experiments can help you. This will make you stronger by tapping into the power of the darkspawn blood and taint that is coursing through your veins." Lhiannon looked at the flask warily, considering Avernus' words. "Do not think about it, Warden," Avernus chastised her. "Remember the credo of the Grey Wardens: we do what it takes to win. We do what it takes to defeat the Blight by any means necessary. Drink the concoction, and become stronger for it."

_The Blight must be defeated_, Lhiannon thought to herself, intently studying the flask in her hand. Avernus' notes indicated that the blood is the key; he was also an admitted blood mage, which made Lhiannon nervous. She had no doubt that he used blood magic in the callous experiments he performed on the dead Wardens around them.

Could she do that? Could she accept Avernus' offer, knowing that Wardens died as a result of Avernus' work? Did they willingly offer themselves to Avernus for his experiments or were they forced to take part in his horrific experiments? Judging by the skeletons in several of the cages that lined the walls of the room, not all the Wardens had willingly offered to help Avernus. Had Sophia Dryden, in her madness, ordered Avernus to take Wardens by force? Or had Avernus simply forced them himself, through blood control or other means? If he did, did Sophia Dryden look the other way?

"Stop thinking, Warden, and drink it! If you wish to save Ferelden from the Blight, you must drink it and use the power to turn back the archdemon!"

"What, _exactly_ will this do, if I drink it," Lhiannon asked warily. "This won't turn me into a screeching abomination, will it? I have no desire to join with a demon today, Avernus."

"Nothing so drastic as that, Warden," Avernus said, rolling his eyes. "Are all Wardens of today so dramatic?"

"What will it do, Avernus?" Lhiannon growled, raising the flask high. "Either tell me or I smash this on the floor, then neither of us will have it."

With a heavy sigh, Avernus sank into a nearby chair, rubbing his ancient, wrinkled hands over his equally ancient, wrinkled face. "The concoction will not only slow the advancement of the taint within you somewhat, but it will also allow you to tap into the power that resides in your tainted blood. You will be able to use your blood as a weapon."

"Blood magic?" Lhiannon asked warily, lowering the flask from where she held it near her head down to a more natural position.

"Not exactly," Avernus said, tapping his finger on a parchment on his worktable. "Demons are the source of blood magic in the world today; what you hold in your hands was not of the Fade and of demons. I needed to find something that the demons could not match; thus, I used the darkspawn taint that resides in the Grey Wardens. Living, breathing creatures, not ethereal beings from beyond the Veil." Avernus paused, raising his brow at Lhiannon. "So the abilities that will be imparted onto you are not technically blood magic, from a certain point of view."

"A certain point of view? Quit splitting hairs, Avernus. If it looks like blood magic and sounds like blood magic..."

Avernus nodded, speaking to Lhiannon in a more familiar tone. "Though these abilities harness the power of your blood, they are not technically blood magic in the strictest sense and by current definition, since the abilities do not rise from the demonic realm. I'm sure the Chantry will disagree, so be wary of them. If spells use blood, they are blood magic in their eyes." Avernus scoffed angrily, slashing his hand through the air in emphasis. "The Chantry would see all magic eradicated from the face of Thedas if they had their way."

With a light laugh, Lhiannon found herself agreeing with the ancient mage on that one point. "That, the Chantry would certainly try to do." Annoying the Chantry and the templars alone was almost enough justification itself for Lhiannon to drink Avernus' concoction. In the end, as she brought the flask to her lips, her justification was simple: if Avernus' work could help her protect the Grey Wardens and the people of Ferelden against the Blight, it would be a risk worth taking. The Chant of Light was not going to stop the archdemon; the Grey Wardens and their might would.

In one large gulp, Lhiannon downed the concoction and felt the searing pain from the Joining all over again.

* * *

"You went through the Joining _twice?_" Jowan gasped, his nose wrinkled in disgust at the thought of experiencing the pain and burning of the Joining again. Lhiannon chuckled, scoffing lightly as she did so. "I don't think it was a Joining, per se, but it sure felt like it."

"What happened after that?" Anders asked.

"Avernus showed me the two new abilities that came with drinking his concoction. I can regenerate my mana more rapidly by cutting myself and drawing power from the blood."

Anders grimaced, the thought of Lhiannon injuring herself just to regenerate her mana faster causing his stomach to turn. Thankfully, he saw that the skin on her hands and arms was free of self-inflicted marks, unlike Jowan's, which were still healing but would leave telltale scars. "What is the other spell?"

"It's the spell I used on Flemeth; my blood becomes a weapon, injuring whatever I'm fighting with spirit damage. Avernus told me that on darkspawn, the spell is even more potent." Lhiannon shuddered, a grimace crossing her features. "I've never tried it other than the one time fighting Flemeth; I never even used it when fighting the archdemon. Even if I had wanted to, I was losing too much blood." Lhiannon paused, sighing and running her hands through her hair. "I just…can't do it. I don't _want_ to do it anymore, if I can help it."

Anders reached over and pulled Lhiannon close, placing a small, friendly kiss on her temple just above the scar that snaked its way into her hairline. "I'm glad that you have renounced it, Lhi. I don't want to see any mages using blood magic. It opens doors that are better left closed and keeps the templars and Chantry from breathing down our necks even more than they already do."

With a chuckle, Lhiannon leaned into Anders and wrapped an arm around his waist. "You should have heard Avernus when I voiced my doubts about using the magic unless I absolutely had to. He scoffed at me." Lowering her voice into her best approximation of the ancient mage, she continued. 'Wardens do what it takes to win, and if that means less than desirable magic, so be it.'" Lhiannon paused for a second before continuing. "He's not the most charming person."

"I'm glad you were able to resist, Lhi," Jowan said, absentmindedly rubbing the scar on the palm of his hand; the one he had inflicted on himself during his escape from Kinloch Hold. "I wish I was able to. Maker, I _still_ hear the call of blood magic."

"You will resist it, Jowan," Lhiannon grinned, reaching out and pulling Jowan close so that all three of them were gathered into a single hug; she smiled broadly at her friends, remembering how they would sit together like this during their education at Kinloch Hold. Alistair had told her when she first met him that the one good thing about the Blight was how it brought people together; of course, that was said after he spent several minutes antagonizing a mage with that silly grin on his face. There may not be a Blight raging any longer, but it was the tainted blood of the Grey Wardens that brought Lhiannon and her two closest friends together again.

Just like old times.

Fin

* * *

_This one-shot was inspired by a review for Chapter 5 of "Retribution" left by the one and only Gene Dark. She said she would be interested in a flashback telling how Lhiannon learned blood magic and what was going through her head at the time. Well, here it is. Lhi was reluctant, but knew that if it bettered their odds against the archdemon, she would take the chance (damned be the Chantry!). I hope you like it, Gene. Thanks for the idea! You are simply too good to me!_

_I'm sure more than one of you recognize the "meatbag" reference. That is courtesy of another Bioware title, Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic (one of my absolute favorite games!). The delightfully snarky droid, HK-47, refers to humanoids as meatbags__, especially Darth Malak__; the only humanoid exempt from the meatbag status is, of course, Darth Revan. Shale reminds me very much of HK-47 and I could picture her referring to fleshy creatures as such. Oh yeah, Shale will always be a her to me. :)_

_The quote "a certain point of view" is also a Star Wars reference. Not only am I a Star Trek nerd, I'm a Star Wars nerd as well. Viva la nerds!_

_Thanks to everyone reading and following along with Lhiannon and Loghain's stories. You make my day and make writing so much fun!  
_


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